


Grow Not Instant Old

by Melk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Horrible children, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sandaime breaking and entering again to show off children’s houses to their senseis, tiny angry kakashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melk/pseuds/Melk
Summary: Kakashi is haunted by ghosts, real and otherwise.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After a decade of not writing, I find myself back here. (Yay!)
> 
> This is a bit of a warm up, I suppose, as I get back into the swing of things. An idea that came to me at the end of Shippuden, and my heart broke at the episode with tiny Kakashi still living in the house after Sakumo died.
> 
> Ok, so there’s no real plot here, but sort of just a series of scenes? There is more beyond this, so chapter 2 is very possible, but I have other projects on the horizon, and so decided to put this one to bed (so to speak). Un-beta'd, so let me know if you catch anything.

This ghost story starts, like so many, on a dark and stormy night. A man, plagued by demons, finally found himself overcome. And in the moments after, as he felt the warmth of his life’s blood seep out underneath him, and fear rose up in place of the peace he had hoped for, he only regretted not sealing the room so the demons died with him.

And so they lingered, watching from the shadows of the garden, lurking around corners and rattling the windows in vague threats towards anyone who ventured close. For his part, the man’s spirit remained, locked in the room where he died, the smell of blood on the air every year when the summer storms came.

But he kept watch over the one who remained, the child he had died to protect, a feeble attempt to shield him from the evil that followed him wherever he had gone. The child, for his part, continued on. He adjusted the spaces in his life, compartmentalizing events, people, feelings. And the man watched. He watched, and the demons waited for a day in the future when they would be able to take this boy, too.

***

Minato frowned as he looked around the kitchen. It was scrubbed clean, not a dish out of place, or a wrapper on the counter. The smell of bleach lingered in the air. He wasn’t sure his own kitchen had ever been this clean, even when he first moved in. This certainly didn’t look like the home of a nine year old boy.

Sandaime puffed on his pipe as he leaned on the counter. “Tell me what you see.” 

“It’s... sterile. The whole house is. You’d never think anyone lived here.”

Sandaime hmm’ed and nodded to the hall. Minato followed him out, and around the corner. The house was in the traditional style of the homes built in the era of the Shodai Hokage. Two floors, constructed around an inner courtyard where a small pond bubbled up, flanked by benches on either side. A tall oak tree in the corner provided shade. It would have been serene, in another life. Now it was just cold, like the rest of the house.

They stopped in front of a pair of shoji doors, bound shut with a seal. Minato started with recognition--it was the same one he had placed two years ago, shutting out those who might interfere, but preserving the room for investigation. Murder or suicide, the Uchiha police force were obligated to catalogue any violent death.

Sandaime’s face remained impassive. Minato furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “The seal is unbroken. I don’t understand.”

“He wouldn’t let the officers who arrived in. He refused to let anyone enter the room. It’s remained untouched since the body was removed.”

“They let him do that? Protocol dictates--”

“Protocol didn’t seem important to the responders. He died in disgrace--no one had been particularly concerned about what remained.”

 _What remained, indeed_ , Minato remembered the shell of a little boy he had brought back to his home that night, t-shirt and hands covered in blood, completely silent. “I don’t think it’s best for him to continue living here. This...” he gestured to the door, the sealed dojo beyond, the sterile, empty house. “I know it’s his family home, but to stay here, with this...well the ghosts of these sorts of things have a way of lingering.”

Sandaime hummed. “I can’t be seen to be taking such a personal interest in any single shinobi, no matter their circumstance. I have to stay objective, you understand.”

Minato huffed. _Objective my ass. Bringing me here with Kakashi conveniently out on a mission to see this_. He opened his mouth to respond, but Sandaime cut him off. “But I do believe that there are quite a few open apartments open in the new mixed chunin/jonin blocks. If someone else was to move, say, a rather young, orphaned chunin, out of his family compound and into a new apartment with no prior occupants or history...well I couldn’t be accused of any sort of favoritism by the council in that case.”

Minato raised his eyebrows in response. “And you think I’ll be the one to convince him?”

Sandaime shrugged, “No one else would try.”

Minato looked back at the unbroken seal again, and frowned.

***

To his surprise, Kakashi hadn’t put up a fight. In fact, he hardly reacted at all. He sat, small hands resting on his knees as Minato tried to explain, in gentle tones, that the house was too big, too empty, too _sad_ , for a seven year old boy on his own.

Kakashi had just sat, impassive, and when Minato asked if he’d consider moving into the new dorms on the other side of the village he responded, “Yes, sensei,” his voice small and flat.

***

Minato met Kakashi at the compound a few days later, keys to a new apartment in Block C in hand.

The gate was shut, at odds with the others he had passed on his way here, open to reveal the life inside. He knocked and waited. There was a shuffle of steps, then the gate opened to reveal Pakkun, nudging it with his nose.

“The kid’s inside,” the little pug said, trotting back to the house, not waiting to see if Minato followed. 

Kakashi was crouched, just inside the door, tightening the straps on his pack. A single box sat next to it, small enough that Minato could easily carry it under one arm.

“All set?” he asked. Kakashi nodded. Minato looked at the single box again. He thought about the photos on the wall in the living room, Sakumo’s library, bookshelves packed to bursting, the chests of weapons passed through generations. “Is this everything?” 

“Everything worth keeping,” the boy replied, cold. Pakkun huffed, but didn’t speak. Minato thought about the unbroken seal on the shoji doors.

He nodded, picking up the box. “Let’s head out, then.”

And as they turned the corner, gates now locked up tight, Minato pretended not to notice Kakashi looking back at the compound one last time before it disappeared from view.

***

The story is whispered often enough over the years. Told around the mission campfire to frighten new genin. An object lesson in the shinobi code. Too sensational to be taught in the classroom, but a lesson shared nonetheless.

“I hear he still wanders the grounds of the compound,” one boy told his teammates breathlessly one night. “Moaning out warnings to those who think about abandoning their mission parameters.”

“You’re making that up,” the girl to his left responded, shaking her head, even as she leaned closer to hear more. 

“No, I swear! It’s been locked up for years, but Uchiha Eri told me he saw him when he was coming home from a mission last month. A silver-haired ghost, sitting up on the roof.”

“Well _I_ heard he had a kid--you know, that one a few classes behind us that graduated so fast? I heard he sealed the body, and keeps it in a house like a living doll. And _that's_ who’s wandering the halls.”

“Do you think that’s why he made chunin so fast?”

“Ugh, so creepy! I hope I never have to take a mission with him. I don’t want to find out.”

***

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting patterns on the ground below. Kakashi sat, tucked up in the valley where the eaves of the roof met, watching as they shifted and danced with each gust of wind. The old banners on either side of the gate fluttered, the edges tattered, and cross-hatch symbol of the Hatake faded as they gave into another year of abandonment.

Quiet reigned here. No one to point, no one to whisper ( _genius, prodigy, arrogant, cursed_ ), and no one would come looking. He catalogued each new encroachment as nature started to take back the garden, creeping up to the house. He wondered absently if one day the house would crumble too, vines finally breaking through the wood and stone to reclaim it. He wasn’t sure if he cared.

A shriek shattered the moment, startling Kakashi so he slid down the tiles a foot before he could re-stick his chakra. He turned in the direction of the noise, and watched as a girl ran, laughing, into the clearing on the other side of the compound’s walls, long, messy braids flying behind her. She was waving a tanto in one hand, and was ducking and weaving to avoid the older boy who burst into the clearing after her.

“Kanako, give it _back!_ I had everything packed for my mission tomorrow--if you knick the blade, I’m going to tell Mom and then you’ll really be in trouble!” 

Kakashi squinted at the boy. Standing head and shoulders taller than the girl, his clear inability to reclaim what was apparently his blade didn’t bode well for his future in the field. Every time he seemed to corner her, she would twist and squirm and be off before he could grab a solid hold. She had some promise.

“I’d never be!” She shouted over her shoulder as she evaded him yet again. “Mom always says, if another ninja gets a hand on your blade, you _deserve_ to lose it.”

“Not when you steal it from my _pack_.”

The girl laughed as the boy lunged, missing her and tripping over a rock to land with an audible thump. Definitely lacking.

“Ugh, I _hate_ you!”

She took off in the opposite direction, running up the wall separating the clearing from the Hatake compound, landing lightly on the top...only to wobble, throwing her arms out in an attempt to regain her balance and losing her grip on the blade. It fell, end over end, landing with a thunk, buried to the hilt in what had once been Kakashi’s grandfather’s roses.

A gasp, and the girl’s hands flew to her face in dismay.

“Kanako, what did you _do?_ ” the boy wailed.

“Don’t worry, Ken, I’ll get it back,” she recovered, bravado returning. She set her jaw and crouched down to jump.

“You can’t go in there! Don’t you remember? Mom always said to stay away. You know, after what happened.” 

Kakashi clenched his jaw.

“Aren’t you my _older_ brother?” she called over her shoulder, “Stop being such a baby about it! It’s not like the White Fang’s ghost is going to grab me, or anything. Ghosts aren’t _real_.”

The boy looked upset for a moment, but then she jumped, landing heavily on the grass, rolling head over heels as her chakra wobbled again. She hadn’t graduated from the academy yet, then.

Recovering from the stumble, she lunged forward and gripped the handle on the tanto, bracing to pull it out. She took a deep breath in and, in the space before her exhale, Kakashi was on the ground in front of her, hand covering hers on the hilt. 

The girl yelped at his sudden appearance, stumbling over to land in the dirt. She stared, eyes wide, face smudged with dirt from her fall. It was the same look he got from all the villagers, followed by hushed voices and warnings. She seemed to collapse in on herself, all previous bravado gone.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes, watching her. Maybe she didn’t hold so much promise after all, bravery all a front.

As the seconds stretched on and he didn’t attack, her initial shock faded to apparent interest. She peered at him, eyes narrowed and considering. Then: “Are _you_ the ghost that lives here?”

Kakashi started in surprise. “I--No. I’m a chunin.”

She considered his words. “A ghost could be a chunin.”

“I’m a _boy_.” He said more forcefully, annoyed.

“A boy could be—“ 

Before she could finish Kakashi flashed forward, knocking her hand aside and pulled the blade from the earth, leveling the tip at her.

“What about that? Can a ghost do that?” He snapped. She recoiled at his display of skill and met his eyes along the blade, but didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw. “Anyway, I thought you said ghosts weren’t real.” He said archly. She opened her mouth to respond.

“Kan-chan, are you ok?” Her brother suddenly called, shattering the moment. “Who are you talking to?”

The interruption served to knock the edge off his temper, and Kakashi drew himself back together, bringing his attention back to the blade. He tested the heft and balance of the weapon. It was similar in construction, but lighter than his father’s, ending in an angled tip, well-balanced and sharp. It bore the mark of the Toranaga on the steel, master weapon makers. 

He was exhausted suddenly. With a twist of his wrist, he flipped the blade around, holding out the hilt to the girl.

She stared back, not moving.

He huffed and held the blade out closer, gesturing for her to take it. “Here, it’s yours, isn’t it?”

She startled at his words.

“I--” she started. “Well, you did take it off me.”

“Take it back.”

She reached out tentatively, as though he might lash out in return, and grasped the tanto by the hilt. “And you’re _sure_ you’re not a ghost?” She asked again, peering at him intently. 

_Honestly,_ Kakashi thought, _she was worse than Obito_ , “ _Yes_ , I’m _sure._ ”

A sly smile spread slowly across her face. “Well. Then you _should_ have kept this,” she waved the blade at him. “My mom’s chakra blades are the best. You could totally have fended off any ghosts with this. One day, if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll make you one of your own, Not-a-Ghost-kun.” And then she was off like a shot, up the wall again, blade in hand. Kakashi choked indignantly, but she was gone before he could object to being called -kun by someone so far beneath him.

She paused at the top, balance better this time, and Kakashi now saw the same mark on the back of her tunic that was on the blade. Well. She was going to need a lot of practice if she was going to become the kenjutsu master she claimed.

“ _I’m_ not the baby, Ken. I’m fine!” she shouted to her brother, before throwing herself down the other side. 

Kakashi heard a thump, as she landed, followed by a shout from her brother, “What were you thinking, going in there?” 

Kakashi jumped back up to the roof, landing lightly and crouching down to peer over the wall.

She glanced quickly over her shoulder towards the Hatake compound with a small frown. Then she turned back to her brother, and waved her hand like she was brushing something aside, “No ghosts on the other side, idiot. I told you it’s fine--see?” and lunged forward, blade outstretched. Her brother ducked and rolled, coming up behind her, in another attempt to grab the weapon. 

Laughing again, the girl made to take off back into the woods... and ran smack into a tall, broad-shouldered man. His hand whipped out, almost faster than Kakashi could see, and grabbed the girl’s arm in a vice grip. The boy’s eyes lit up as he saw an opportunity, but before he could grab for the tanto, the man grabbed him as well, holding each child out to either side of him. Kakashi had a brief vision of his own father, hand flashing to grab him out of mid-air as he slipped out of a tree, catching him, and pulling him close. He frowned at the memory.

The man heaved an over-exaggerated sigh. “I thought I said to set the table, not to take off into the woods with a knife.” 

“It’s Kanako’s fault,” the boy said, quick to pass blame. “She even went over the wall into _there.”_ He pointed over his shoulder to the Hatake compound.

The man looked up. Kakashi was sure he spotted him in his hiding spot on the roof. The man’s eyes narrowed briefly and he frowned. Then his face smoothed out and he turned to the girl, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? In there?”

“See? I _told you_.” the boy crowed. “You’re in so much trouble--Mom said to stay away. It’s all cursed.”

The man frowned again. He glanced up again towards the roof. Kakashi held his breath, quieting his chakra. “Where are you hearing stories like that? No such thing as a curse.”

“No, it’s true--they say you can see his ghost at night. You know, the White Fang?”

“You’re too old for ghost stories, Kento.” The man admonished, tightening his grip on the boy. 

“But it’s true! I even heard Kanako talking to someone.”

The man turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow.

She shifted from foot to foot (so obvious, Kakashi scoffed) and turned what she must have thought was an innocent look up to the man. She wasn’t quite successful.

“Who were you talking to, Kanako?”

“No one. There wasn’t anyone there.”

“She’s lying. I heard it!” The boy tried to yank out of the man’s grip to face her.

“No I’m not!” Her hands balled into fists, and she shifted her right foot back to attack.

“Enough! Both of you.” The man yanked both children further apart. “Kanako, give me the blade. Kento, stop egging your sister on.”

The girl moved to hide the tanto behind her back, and looked up at him, pouting. “I always get blamed, but it’s just training, right, Dad?”

The man looked down, and with another sigh, shook his head. “Give it here,” he said, dropping the boy and holding out his hand for the blade. The girl looked like she might refuse for a second before handing it over, hilt first. The man took it, sliding it into the back of his belt. He then adjusted his grip on the back of both children, and started to force them back into the woods, in the direction of their house.

“Your mother will be home in a few days, and you can train with her then. In the meantime, I’m in charge of making sure you eat and don’t kill each other.”

“Fiiinnneee,” the girl whined, but she leaned behind her father’s back and pulled a face at her brother. “But only because we both know Ken can’t beat me anyway.”

“Not true! Ugh, I _hate_ you!”

The man’s laugh rang out as they disappeared into the woods. “And I hate _both_ of you! Give your poor father a break! Or no dessert.”

“ _Daaddd!_ ” It was apparently the worst thing he could have said, as they let themselves be dragged away.

Kakashi sat, watching the clearing where they had been for a long time after they disappeared.

***

“And then, I _totally_ took the big guy out from behind and saved Tomo-chan from ALL the bandits. She was so impressed. Did you catch that, Rin? Did you see how impressed she was?” Obito glanced sideways at the girl for validation, huge grin on his face, as he recounted their mission again.

She smiled at him in response, and nodded, “Very impressed.”

It was warm, the sun high in the sky as Team Minato came back through the village gates, back from a two week escort mission to the capital of Fire country. Kakashi was sweating, and this was the fifth time he was hearing Obito’s version of what had happened. He managed to somehow have played a bigger role, been more impressive, with each re-telling.

Kakashi huffed. “We were all there, Obito. Idiot. And that’s not what happened.”

“Oh, but it was close to that, wasn’t it Kakashi-kun?” Rin cut in. “Really close,” she reassured Obito. He beamed at her in response. When she glanced away, he rounded on Kakashi, pulling a face.

Kakashi crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, looking away. “Whatever. Stop indulging him.”

Minato chuckled, “Ahh, Kakashi, everyone embellishes a bit when retelling a mission.”

“He shouldn’t be talking about it anyway, out here where civilians might hear. It’s against protocol.”

Mintato’s hand came down, warm and gentle on his head, ruffling his hair. “Ah, I think we can make an exception, this time.” 

Kakashi batted him away. “He always needs exceptions. Some ninja he is, unable to do any of it without help.”

“Hey!” Obito shouted, indignant, “Idiot, I can beat you up myself! Here, I’ll show you,” and tried to launch himself at Kakashi

“Ah, not now boys!” Minato grabbed the back of Obito’s shirt, stepping in the way before Kakashi could land a blow in response. Rin laughed nervously, looking between the two of them. “Come on, how about I treat to dinner?” he suggested, diverting them.

Kakashi huffed again, seeing through Minato-sensei’s ploy, and crossed his arms. 

“All right!” Obito whooped, pumping his fist in the air, insulted honor forgotten. “Yakiniku Q, yeah, Sensei?”

Minato grinned in response, “Yakiniku Q, it is.” And led them off down the side streets.

***

Later, after a brief goodbye and agreement to meet the next morning for training, Team Minato went their separate ways. Minato off to turn in their report and meet Kushina, Rin back to her parents, and Obito in the direction of the Uchiha compound.

Kakashi made his way back to Block C, taking the long route along the edge of the village, annoyance still simmering barely below the surface. Obito was going to blow it for them all, one day, his impulsiveness too much of a liability in the field. It’s like he was a ninja for what he saw to be glory and recognition--like he could be a hero with some great title and they’d make him Hokage in exchange.

Honor and glory--it was all a joke. Kakashi kicked a stone out of his path in frustration. Better to be nameless in the shadows and effective than loud and visible with some dumb title that your enemies saw coming. Stupid, Obito! What did he know, anyway.

There was the sound of subdued conversation from up ahead, and Kakashi looked up to see his path had taken him around behind the memorial stones and shrine. A small group stood in front of a headstone, dirt in front of them freshly packed and flowers placed to honor the newly dead.

The priest stood to the side, speaking with an older man. The man wore formal-looking robes in a blue so dark it was almost black. His clan symbol was embroidered on either lapel, but Kakashi couldn’t make it out from the distance. His greying hair was pulled back in an elaborate series of braids, three plaits starting from his forehead, running back separately before they came together just past his shoulders in a complicated twist. He gave the priest a short bow before turning back to the rest of the group.

Kakashi started with recognition as he took a closer look at the three by the grave, realizing they were the family from the clearing next to the compound the other day. The man stood, head bent, broad shoulders drawn in. The boy was crying, noisy as he had been in the clearing, not even trying to control himself. The man, his father, pulled him closer and the boy sobbed into his haori. Something white hot twisted through Kakashi’s chest at the gesture of comfort and protection, but he clamped down hard before it could materialize into anything solid.

The girl stood to the side, silent, hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was almost unrecognizable, hair neat, and not a fold of her kimono out of place. There was none of the energy or bravado she had as she had tumbled over the wall and into his garden.

There was only one person missing from the family portrait. Kakashi remembered the siblings' argument about what would happen when their mother returned, how she had warned them about the White Fang. Her mission had apparently taken a dark turn.

Still, Kakashi thought as he turned and left them to their grief, better to die with honor in the field doing your duty than to return, alive but a failure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has taken a darker turn than originally intended. And a bit over-indulgently melodramatic? Ah well. Again, un-beta'd. All feedback (and error catching) welcome!

Kakashi jerked awake, arms thrown up in front of him in an effort to block an attack that would never land. In his mind’s eye, the ghostly impression of malevolence loomed over him in the rough approximation of a human, blade poised to strike, lightning sparking along its length. 

He took one...two...three deep breaths to calm the frantic beating of his heart against his rib cage, and rubbed the backs of his hands over his eyes, trying to dispel the last of the dream.

It wasn’t the first time he had had this particular nightmare, and he figured it wouldn’t be the last. But for all its familiarity, he couldn’t imagine sleeping again, with his mind and his chakra disturbed by the hatred and anger still deep in his chest from that beast. Instead, he shuffled out of bed to the kitchen sink, getting a glass of water.

Pakkun lifted his head from where he was curled on the floor, woken by Kakashi’s thrashing, watching. Kakashi frowned and looked away. He marked the shift of the shadows across the floor, ignoring the small pug’s concern.

“Kid--” he started. Kakashi held up a hand, cutting him off.

“I just need some air.” 

Pakkun gave a soft grunt and lay his head back down on his paws. He didn’t argue, didn’t push back. Kakashi placed the glass in the sink, and turned to the window, pulling it open and climbing on the sill.

“Take a scarf this time. I’m not here to bring you soup when you get a cold.” Pakkun remained curled on the rug, eyes closed, but ears perked up.

Kakashi scowled in annoyance, but reached over and grabbed the length of cloth off the side of the couch before climbing the rest of the way out the window to take off over the rooftops.

The window slid back with bang, and Pakkun had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

***

The cool night air whipped past his face, leaving the scarf he grudgingly wrapped around himself to flap behind like some absurd tail as Kakashi leapt from rooftop to rooftop. He ran, with no clear destination, until he started to feel the deep, unsettling feeling that had been clenched tight in his chest since he woke unknot.

He allowed his footsteps to slow as it came completely unraveled, finding himself at the edge of the clan districts. He stopped, settling against a branch to catch his breath, to look out over the area. From here, the ground rose in a shallow incline up to the village walls, another few kilometers in the distance. Homes of the lesser, smaller clans were nestled together here at the foot of the incline, separated by nothing more than the dusty streets between them. The further up the incline, the larger the estates, the older the homes, ancient walls protecting these families from the eyes of outsiders, or worse, the neighboring clans.

Kakashi let his eyes wander, marking the gentle torchlight marking the entrance to the Hyuuga’s lands, quiet and asleep; the relative darkness of the Nara, shadows creeping out from under the occasional lit window, friendly and searching for their kin; their neighbors, Yamanaka and Akamichi sound asleep; all the way back to the still brightly lit Uchiha compound, nestled right up against the wall, late night food stalls and bars still open, despite the hour.

The normalcy of all these shinobi, sleeping, going about their business, helped to soothe the remainder of the dream. Kakashi took another deep breath, letting it out slowly, finally feeling a sense of calm. He stood to head back to his apartment, when a flash of light caught his eye.

It was there, in the section of the compounds that was darkest, the area he steadfastly tried to ignore, but was drawn to all the same. A small glow, like from a lantern, winked in and out in the direction of the Hatake compound. 

Kakashi’s breath caught in his throat. Ghosts weren’t real. He knew this. But he also knew that the compound, and the area around it, was abandoned.

Suddenly he was furious. He had heard the rumors, the stories untested genin would tell each other. The challenges they would put to each other to prove some false type of bravado. Before he could think about what he was doing, Kakashi was off over the treetops, skirting the edges of compound walls, breath burning in his lungs, planning on taking out whoever thought to make light of another family tragedy. And came to a sudden stop in the trees across from the gates. The lantern had been snuffed out and in the moonlight, he could see it had been left next to the gate, under the pillar with Hatake kanji carved into it. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

He held his breath and searched the ground for whoever left the lamp, and then he heard it. The rustle of leaves, a deep breath, and then... _thump_. Something hit the ground inside the compound. His anger roiled in this stomach, as Kakashi perched on top of the wall, hidden in the darker shadows of the trees until he saw it--the small, slow moving shadow of whoever had dared trespass. It crept through the yard up onto the engawa, reaching for the shoji doors. The moonlight winked off the edge of a blade as the figure shoved it in the latch, working it back and forth until the door gave way, sliding back with a bang. And in the space of a heartbeat, Kakashi was on the figure, arms wrapped around the offender in a choke hold, crashing through the open doors and into the hallway.

The shadow, now obviously not just a shadow, cried out and threw its head back, smashing into Kakashi’s nose, taking him by surprise. Pain bloomed across his face and he felt the slow trickle of blood under his mask, but maintained his hold, even as the trespasser continued to lash out. They grappled, upending a low table and sending its contents across the floor. Whoever it was couldn’t be any older than Kakashi, small frame about his size. They rolled together over, and over, until Kakashi could adjust his grip and braced his knees, tightening his hold against his opponent. Whoever it was, they thrashed once, twice more, and went slack. Breathing hard, Kakashi slowly let his own grip loosen, allowing the body to slump to the ground, before he rolled it over...and started in surprise. In the pale light of the moon he could make out the familiar face of the girl from the other day, sandy hair in a braid that wrapped around her head this time, dark clothes bearing no distinguishing marks. Shoved into her belt was some sort of sheathed blade, about the length of a kunai, but flat. A second, empty holster was strapped to her leg.

Kakashi sat back on his heels, anger forgotten in his surprise. His nose throbbed and she remained still and unmoving. Frowning, he started to wonder if he had been a bit too rough, reaching forward to take her pulse. As his fingers brushed her wrist, her eyes flew open and she surged up, like she’d been waiting, hard part of her forehead aiming for his already abused nose. Ready this time, Kakashi dodged to the side, letting her momentum launch her face first into the tatami, as he twisted her arm up behind her back.

“Get off!” she shouted, her voice muffled in the floor, dust rising in a cloud around her as her free hand slapped the ground next to her, and kicked out with her feet. “Let me go, or I swear I’ll make you regret it.” 

Kakashi leaned more of his weight into her arm, annoyance and anger swirling through him as she continued to fight. “I’m not going to regret anything,” he ground out. She made an incoherent noise of pain as her joint was forced at an angle, slapping the ground again and almost catching him in the ribs as she slammed her heel up behind her. He yanked her back by the arm, before abruptly letting go. He sat back, watching her closely as she scrambled away until her back hit the wall, breathing hard and glaring at him. 

Kakashi glared back, balling his fists at his sides. “What are you doing here? This isn’t your house.”

The girl didn’t answer, but her eyes flickered to the side and the back to Kakashi, marking where her blade fell after forcing open the doors. Her muscles flexed as she prepared to make a move for it, but Kakashi was a chunnin, and she had yet to graduate. He had the blade in hand and leveled at her before she could process that he had moved.

“Well?” Kakashi prompted again, annoyance making his words clipped. “Why are you here?”

Her expression shifted from anger to fear and back, but she didn’t answer. Kakashi slammed his fist into the ground, growling. The girl jumped. “Answer me!”

She met his eyes briefly before her gaze slid to the side again. “I... I came because I thought...” she trailed off, shifting nervously.

“What, that you’d be the one to finally win the challenge?” He was shaking with repressed fury, tip of the blade wavering. “That you’d prove yourself by taking on the dare of spending the night with ghosts and lord it over your friends? Don’t think I don’t know what you academy students think passes for bravery.”

Her head came up sharply at that and she looked surprised, “No! No, I thought...” A pained look crossed her face, “I mean, yes, I got the idea from the dares. I thought that if the ghost stories my brother heard on missions were true...” Kakashi scoffed. Just as he thought, taking advantage of the ghost stories. “Well, if they were true, and the White Fang was still here...” Her voice was getting softer and softer, until she whispered, “then maybe my mom would be here, too.” 

Kakashi felt the anger that had been rolling through him turn cold and fall away, like a wave returning to the ocean. In its place rose something else, a twinge almost like sympathy, before he shoved it down. Death was to be expected for a shinobi. It did little good to dwell on what was gone.

He flipped his grip on the blade and drove it into the tatami at his side, letting out a long breath He sat back on his heels, making to stand up. “That’s a story for kids. Nothing more.”

She frowned and looked up at him. “We’re kids.”

“ _You_ might be. I’m a chunin.”

The girl gave a surprised huff of laughter, “So you’ve mentioned.” Kakashi glared at her in response. She stood, brushing dust off her pants, succeeding only in smearing it everywhere. She made no move to leave, much to his annoyance.

“Why are _you_ here? Clearly you don’t live here. No one lives here,” she swiped her hand through a spider web, taking in the abandoned room. She cocked her head to the side and watched him. “Maybe you’re the ghost I was promised?”

“There are no such thing as ghosts.” Kakashi forced out through gritted teeth.

The girl’s face seemed to crumple a bit at this statement, and she took a deep breath that seemed to shudder at the edges. Kakashi was struck by the sudden fear that she would start crying. He had taken on enemy nin in the field, faced down men three times his size without wavering, but the prospect of this girl’s tears made him freeze. It was with great relief that her deep breath turned into two, then three, then she seemed to pull herself together.

“Why are you always here, if you don’t live here?” She finally asked, rubbing the backs of her hands across her face, smearing more dust. 

Kakashi frowned and fought the urge to cross his arms and reveal his own discomfort. “It’s my house.”

“Ah...” she pursed her lips, “did your parents want somewhere more...” she glanced around again, taking in the room, “modern?”

“It has nothing to do with what they wanted.” He said, shortly. 

“Don’t they miss you, if you’re here all the time?”

“Don’t yours?” he shot back.

She shrugged, “I’m sure my dad will come looking. He always does.” Kakashi frowned. “I’m sure yours will, too,” she added, helpfully.

That familiar white-hot fury rolled through him from his feet to his fingertips and Kakashi clenched his fists. “He’s dead,” he ground out.

The girl met his gaze in surprise, and he dropped his eyes to the floor, immediately regretting his honesty. An awkward silence fell, and he fought the urge to shift his weight as she watched him.

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, “I didn’t mean to pry,” and Kakashi started as her hand rested on his arm. He pulled back, burning where she had touched him. 

“Why do you want to see her?” He asked instead, deflecting from her sudden concern. 

The girl startled back a step. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother... why did you come here looking for her?”

She cocked her head to the side, “Don’t you want to see your dad?”

Kakashi glanced down at the pieces of vase that had broken in their scuffle, and over to the picture that had fallen off the wall. Years worth of dust obscured the figures, seated in formal robes, hands bound together with a complicated matrimonial knot. He had the sudden impression of his father’s much bigger hands, guiding his through a variety of field knots, and a soft laugh in response to Kakashi asking about the knot in the photo. _“When you’re older, Kakashi-kun. I’ll show you that one when you’re older.”_

“No.” He said firmly, turning away from the photo. “I’m better off without him.”

“Ah,” she said softly. There was a noise and he looked up to see the girl scuffing her toe in the dust, eyebrows drawn together. Kakashi held his breath, waiting for her to ask why, but she surprised him. “Well, I... I needed to find her because I have questions.”

Kakashi scoffed, “Well, you won’t get them answered here.”

She crossed her arms and frowned angrily. “Don’t you have questions for your dad? Clan secrets? Special jutsu? She was supposed to teach me how to forge my own blade, show me to find which was I am best suited to, and now I won’t know... not from her anyway. Don’t you want to know anything from your dad?”

“It was his _choice_ ,” Kakashi ground out bitterly, slashing downwards with his hand, as though it would end this terrible conversation he seemed stuck in. “I don’t care about the rest. I don’t _need_ the rest.” 

The girl’s gaze came up sharply at that, meeting his. He glared, jaw set. Comprehension started to dawn across her face, and her sudden understanding was the final straw. Kakashi grabbed the blade from where he had jammed it into the floor and threw it. It sunk into the wall with a _thunk_ , inches from the girl’s cheek. She didn’t move, paralyzed and eyes wide with sudden terror. Kakashi could feel his anger roiling through him, like the depths of a storm, and his chakra started to respond. The girl shivered under his gaze, killing intent washing over her, and his hands started to tremble from the effort of staying in check.

“Get. Out.” His voice was quiet, but left no room for argument. The girl remained frozen, and he lunged, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt, wrenching her forward. She stumbled, going down onto her knees, crying out in surprise. His chakra was starting to spark along his fingers. The air in the room started to feel close, stifling. Like air contracting before a storm. “Did you hear me? Get OUT!”

She struggled to her feet, and made as though to lurch towards the doors. Kakashi shifted forward to shove her, and then the world seemed to tilt on its axis. As he reached forward, the girl shifted and twisted so his momentum carried him around her, and her fist came out of nowhere to connect with his face, his head snapping to the side as the blow sent him crashing into the floor.

The shock of it disrupted his chakra flow and the sparks died out. The killing intent rushed out of the room, leaving behind nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing. Clutching the face, Kakashi rolled over to look up at the girl who now loomed over him, feet wide, fists clenched. She looked furious. And a bit smug.

“You don’t get to be the bully because you’ve made rank and I haven't,” She told him. He tried to glare back at her, but the rising swelling in his left eye made for a lopsided attempt.

“You’re still trespassing,” he retorted, sullenly, as he tried to sit up. He forced himself to move his hands from his face, despite the ache.

The girl crossed her arms, watching him struggle to sit up. After a minute or so she gave a deep sigh and crouched down next to him, pulling him upright. “Maybe,” she admitted, chewing her lip. He huffed in response.

“I’m sorry,” she said, then, looking at some point over his shoulder and definitely not at him.

Kakashi pushed her back and struggled to his feet. The change in position caused his face to throb. Thank Kami no one was there to watch him get decked by a girl still in the academy. Obito would never let him live it down.

“Sorry? For what? Trespassing? Assaulting a superior?” 

She glared at him in response, straightening up as well, and grabbed his shoulders to keep him upright when he wobbled a bit.

“Ah, well, for pushing about your dad. But sure, the trespassing too.”

It didn’t escape his notice that she didn’t apologize for the punch. 

Kakashi reached up and grasped at her wrists, pulling her hands off his shoulders. She let her arms drop to her sides as he let go. The look she gave him as he met her eyes seemed caught between concern and immense annoyance. The silence stretched on for another minute, then two, then three. She sighed again, giving up on a response, and turned away, starting to make her way to the door.

Struck by the sudden impression that he couldn't just leave this, Kakashi acted. Moving quickly and hardly processing, he grasped her elbow. She turned in surprise to see him holding out her blade that he had thrown earlier. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped short as he dropped his gaze to his feet. He was overwhelmed by a sense of uncertainty. The anger had made sense, but in its absence, he was left with something too close to sadness, and it set his teeth on edge.

He felt her take the blade from his hand, and heard the _shick_ as she slid it home. She seemed to hesitate, then, his hand still on her elbow. But as the silence continued she shook him off and turned again for the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, softly, words rushing out over each other. He watched her feet stop mid-stride. He flexed his hands, and looked up at her, meeting her confused look. “For your mother,” he clarified. “I’m sorry, too.”

The girl’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she clenched her jaw against their fall. She gave him a short nod, turned, and was gone.

Kakashi looked around the room, at the mess from the fighting. The wedding photo glinted up at him, caught in the moonlight. He leaned down to pick it up, wiping off the layers of dust.

Of course he had questions. But he wasn’t so naive that he thought he’d ever get answers. Still...he pushed open the door to the hall, following it as it curved around the courtyard until he came to a familiar set of doors. The seal was barely visible in the weak moonlight that streamed in through the windows opposite. It seemed small, fragile... not like the almost monstrous, living thing he saw in his nightmares. He reached forward, running his fingers along the edge, feeling them catch at the corners where it was loose. Where he could pull it off and release everything he had left trapped in that room. He fiddled with it for a moment, thinking, before dropping his hand by his side. He backed up slowly until he ran into the opposite wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor, photo in his hands.

Did the ghosts really linger? And if they did, what did that make him?

***

Outside, the wind picked up, the draft getting into the house, rattling the shoji doors. The seal crinkled, but held firm, and the ghost of the man inside let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d hold the demons off, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback welcomed!
> 
> The Toranaga clan has lived in my head for years, including many generations before the kids mentioned here, and a generation or two beyond. They might come back again? Though, oddly, it feels more personal revealing their family to the world, haha.
> 
> Scenes on deck: Minato and Kushina make dinner, Kakashi has a nightmare and Pakkun has to be the adult, ghost hunters raid the Hatake compound in the search for something (or someone?)...


End file.
